Connor nodded and patted Lorne on the back. “Okay. That makes sense.” Then he looked at me. “But in the future, when I tell you something, I mean it.”
“Yes, sir,” I snarled.
“You can’t show her all of that and expect her not to be super violent when she comes out of it,” Lorne said. “She needs an outlet.”
“Well, good,” Connor said, eyes still on me. “Because now that the mental part of this shit is done, we have other kinds of training to do.”
“What kind?” I asked him, rubbing the back of my neck, which was still sore from the injection Lorne had given me.
Connor grinned. “The kind that will make you everything you ever should have been. You’re a weapon. You’re a blade and a hand grenade. You’re death, Jolene. Like any blade, you need to be honed, sharpened.” He laughed, then, a strange light in his eyes. “We have so many good times ahead of us, sweetheart.”
All I could do was nod, and say the one word that made sense anymore.
“Okay.”
Part Two
Control
Chapter Eight
Jolene
Three Months Later…
I stood under the searing heat of my shower, running through all of it in my mind, running a play-by-play of how I’d handle this mission.
My first mission. Connor had told me the night before, after my strength training session and evening injection, that he was satisfied with the way my training had progressed, and that it was time to re-introduce me to the world. I was ready. I was strong, much stronger, physically, than I’d been the day I’d come to in Lorne’s lab. My arms, legs, and shoulders all showed definition they lacked before, and Connor had personally trained me in the art of death.
Knives, ice picks, garrotes, swords… Connor had taught me how to wield them all with deadly efficiency. But those were not my favorite methods. No, killing with my bare hands, a lethal punch to exactly the right place… there was something so simple and easy about that. It felt right.
Connor didn’t like it, though. He preferred blades. And because this was his show, I did things the way he told me to. There was nothing to think about. Just follow the commands, just obey my programming. It was good. Easy. I didn’t care enough to think about it either way, and the only thing I knew for sure was that my primary objective was compliance. Do what Connor says.
I was ready to move forward. I was ready to see the world beyond the stark white walls of Connor’s compound. I was ready to use my powers, my skills, for real. And I knew Connor needed me to.
Connor was primarily interested in money, at least for now. And I would make sure he got plenty.
That was my job.
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I toweled off, glancing every once in a while at the black and red uniform hanging on the back of my bathroom door. This would be my first time wearing it. A glimmer of… something, stirred just below the surface of my thoughts, and I shook it away as I started pulling the stretchy armor on over my legs, then up the rest of my body.
I swiped my hand across the mirror over the sink, clearing away the condensation. I combed my hair, pulled it up and back, clipped away from my face. This felt familiar. It was the first thing that had felt real in weeks. Even the injuries I sustained in my sparring with Connor — the bruises, the bumps, the cuts… none of it really felt real. But this, these steps, these were things it felt like I’d done a thousand times before.
I glanced at the digital clock on the counter. I was expected in fifteen minutes. I’d have my evening injection when we got back. I thought I’d tire of the endless injections, but I looked forward to them. By the time Lorne came to inject me, I always began feeling at odds. Stressed, afraid, angry, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know where the feelings came from. All I knew was that the shots made them better. They wrapped me in that warm numbness again, and that was all I really wanted. I’d considered, more than once, mentioning to Lorne that I’d like them sooner, but it wasn’t my place to tell Connor or his people anything. So I didn’t. I dealt with the weirdness until I got my fix, my relief. I just did my job. Just like the rest of Connor’s team.
Connor’s team. I’d finally met them a couple of weeks ago. For the first three months or so that I’d been here, it had just been me, Connor, and Lorne. When he’d been satisfied that I’d be ready to use soon, Connor had called the rest of his team back in.
I did my best to steer clear of them, because they were utter assholes.
He had a few guys with the same accents he had, which he finally told me was Scottish. They all had different powers, mostly the types of powers useful in causing destruction. Michael, the bulkiest, tallest of the three, was a fire starter. James, the chubby one, had some kind of electrical zap thing he did. Kieron, who was actually quite good looking (and knew it) had powers a bit like mine in that he could use a gesture, and whatever was standing in his way would be smashed as if with a giant’s fist.
I was stronger than him, though, and I could tell that he wasn’t happy about that.
Besides the three Scots, there was Eve. She was blond, perfect, and was pretty much glued to Connor’s side the first day she’d arrived. She’d seemed to be less and less enthusiastic the longer she’d been around, and most of the time the past couple of days, she either sat in stony silence or I could hear her screeching at Connor. Usually about me.
Yesterday, a chick around my age had arrived. Dark hair, dark eyes. She’d smirked at me and said we were already familiar with one another.
“Wasn’t this in her programming?” she’d asked Connor, and he shook his head.
“We had to be selective,” he said.
She’d told me that she was Chance, and that we’d both been undercover with StrikeForce, and that it was good to see me again.
Something in her tone had sent chills up my spine.
My mind wandered, losing whatever I’d been thinking about, and I went back to getting ready for the mission.
Once I had my hair pinned back, I picked up the black mask from the counter. I pulled it over my head, a balaclava-style mask that hid everything except my eyes.
I looked at my reflection in the full length mirror on the back of my bathroom door. A stranger stood in my place. If I hadn’t been able to see my eyes, I never would have guessed it was me. I’d become so used to having nothing between me and the rest of the world but a thin t-shirt, a pair of jeans. I’d grown used to my body not being my own, susceptible to the constant injections from Lorne, recipient of Connor’s fists and blades in training, the strange looks he gave me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Those looks made my stomach feel as if I’d swallowed acid, and usually made me want another injection.
But here, like this, clothed in black and red armor, I felt free. Safe. And that was bizarre, because I had nothing to fear.
No. Everyone else would fear me, according to Connor.
Did I even want to be feared? The whisper of a voice somewhere deep inside seemed to ask. I closed my eyes and willed it away. There was no place in my life for thoughts like that. They were meaningless. I had no idea what I’d do with them even if I wanted to, but the desire to even bother thinking about them, let alone the desire to actually act, just didn’t exist. My life was whatever Connor told me it was, and I was fine with that. I didn’t know what I’d do with myself otherwise.
I shook my head, glanced at my reflection again, then opened the door and walked out of the bathroom. I made my way across my room, stopping to tuck two lethal-looking knives into the scabbards on my belt. I felt steadier than I had at first, but my legs just didn’t seem to be as strong as the rest of me. When I’d finally gotten up the energy and desire to ask Connor about it, and why they hadn’t fixed them along with everything else they’d fixed in me, he’d merely said that some things couldn’t be fixed, and that I should hold onto my weakness, because that was all StrikeForce’s fault, and the memory would remind me to fight them all the harder, r
emembering what they’d taken from me.
As answers went, it was typical Connor, but it hadn’t really answered my question. I knew he could have Lorne fix me. It wouldn’t even be hard. Didn’t he want a flawless weapon, someone with no frailties holding her back? But, like everything, I’d let it go because when it came right down to it, I really didn’t care.
I made my way down the corridor, then took the elevator up to the top floor, where I was supposed to meet Connor and the rest of Mayhem. Lorne met me when I got off the elevator, and I gave him a quick nod.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, falling into step beside me.
“Fine.”
“Do you feel ready to do this? If not, I can talk to him. We can see about working more on you.”
I glanced at Lorne. “He wants me there.”
“I know,” he said, glancing away. “But if you’re not ready, I need to know that, you know? I need to fix you if that’s the case.”
“I’m ready. I don’t need any more fixing.”
He sighed. “I don’t think you should go out yet. But it’s not my call.”
“My job is to be where he wants me to be and do what he tells me to do. I am tired of this building, Lorne,” I said.
“I know. Okay. Well, come see me when you get back and we’ll get you your nighttime injection.”
I nodded, barely managing not to beg him for one immediately. Instead, I straightened my spine and pushed open the door to the room where the rest of Mayhem was meeting.
“There she is,” Connor boomed, and I winced. I’d learned to deal somewhat better with my heightened senses in the last few months, but he could be loud and it was a bit much. I schooled my features into something neutral, nodding at him. The rest of Mayhem watched me with various expressions, from respect to outright dislike. Chance wore her typical smirk, and I felt like that should mean something but I didn’t know why.
“Okay,” Connor said. I folded my hands behind my back and listened, focused on him. “Jolene’s ready to go, obviously, so this should be easy. Get in, get out. Anyone gets in your way,” he said, meeting my eyes. “Don’t give them a chance to regret it. I’m tired of playing around. We will be feared. We will be respected. We will be fucking unstoppable,” he said, keeping his eyes on mine. “And Jolene’s gonna get us there, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said quietly, and he grinned. Chance continued to smirk, and Eve looked as if she smelled something bad.
“We were unstoppable enough already,” she said, glaring at Connor. His gaze turned icy, and he turned to her.
“What? Running around in the shadows? Like rats? No. Not anymore. Now, we come out into the light. They’ll come to know us, to know that there is nowhere safe from us. That we’ll strike whenever and however we want, that none of them is safe. That’s power, Eve. Not that sneaky bullshit you want us to do.”
Eve refused to look at him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“We don’t need your murderous little pet,” she said, glancing at me. “Let me work, Connor. We’ll have everything we ever wanted. More.”
Connor crouched down in front of her. “You have no idea what I want. You’re trying so hard to hold onto the paltry power you have on the Tribunal. That’s shit, Eve. The Tribunal is nothing compared to what I’m going to rain down on them. This world is mine, and you’re either with me, or you’re one of the ones who’re gonna be hurting.”
He said it all quietly, calmly, but it sent ice through my veins. Eve still didn’t answer, and Connor transferred his gaze to me.
“But first, we need some fuckin’ money. Jolene, this is your specialty, sweetheart. Make me proud.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered and he grinned, then gave me a wink.
We left headquarters a few minutes later, walking out into what looked like nothing more than an ordinary two car garage from the inside. I looked around, more than a little disappointed at my first view of the outside world.
“We’ll transport there. When we get in, Jolene, you’re gonna make your way to the safe. You remember where I told you to go?”
I nodded.
“Okay. She’ll get my money. And she’ll end anyone who tries to stop her. The rest of us are on cleanup. Get any weapons, valuables, data you can. Anything we can either use or sell. Understood?”
The rest of the team nodded, and so did I.
Connor laughed. “We have a long fuckin’ night ahead of us. Let’s get going.”
The next six hours passed in a blur. I lost count of how many safes I cracked, how many bags and boxes of money and valuables I grabbed, how much money I put in Connor’s waiting hands.
I lost track of how many men I hit, stepping over their still bodies to do Connor’s bidding. On the way out, all I noticed was that none of them had gotten up.
When we returned to Connor’s building for the final time, our arms loaded with large canvas bags, the team was in high spirits. They all laughed, and joked. Connor laughed loudest of all. Even Eve seemed to be in a better mood. I’d noticed during all of our fights that Connor had done little more than stand by and watch, and I wondered at it. For the most part, I’d been too busy following his commands to think much.
When he said to break into something, I broke in.
When he said to hit someone, I hit them.
And when he said, during our last fight when we’d finally come up against a powered person, to end him… I ended him.
My stomach was turning, twisting. I couldn’t stop shaking, and Connor’s voice and laugh were too loud and the knowing, snide glances Chance kept giving me were too much.
Connor was in a corner, talking to the Scots. I walked up to him.
“Sir,” I said quietly. He turned, a wide smile on his face.
“There’s my girl,” he said, pulling me into an embrace. I stiffened, and didn’t move until he let me go.
“I was wondering if I could go to Lorne for my injection, sir. If you have no more need of me tonight?” I asked.
He smiled. “Sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I nodded.
“Nice job tonight, Jolene. You’re everything I hoped you’d be.”
I nodded again, then walked away. I made it to my room, forgetting that I was supposed to see Lorne, and barely made it to my bathroom before losing the contents of my stomach. I stayed, bent over the toilet, unable to stop, unable to stop the shakes that just wouldn’t stop, the sick feeling in my stomach.
All I kept seeing was those men I hit, staying down.
The super hero Connor had told me to kill, eyes open, looking at nothing, as he fell to the floor in the bank we’d been robbing.
When I finally stopped heaving, I slid my body down the wall and crouched in the corner of the bathroom, hugging my knees.
What was wrong with me? This was what I did. This was who I was. This wasn’t the first time I’d killed, by all accounts.
Maybe it would take longer to remember it all. Longer to be okay with it.
I heard a soft knock at my door, smelled Lorne’s slightly rancid scent. I flushed my toilet.
“Just a minute,” I called, hoping my voice didn’t shake too much. I cupped some cold water in my hand and rinsed my mouth, spat the water into the sink.
I went to the door and opened it. Lorne stood there, holding my injection.
I couldn’t get my armor off fast enough, baring my arm for him.
“You okay?” he asked as the needle went in.
“I will be in a minute,” I answered.
He didn’t say anything for a moment.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked.
I tried to think. What had I been thinking about? What had I been upset about?
I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m sleepy,” I told him, and he nodded, then pulled the needle from my skin. All I felt was the perfect, numbing warmth that came from Lorne and his needles, and, just then, I think maybe I loved him a little. He stepped away, sti
ll watching me.
“Get some sleep then, Jolene,” he said.
I nodded.
“How was it?”
I tilted my head, trying to remember. “Fine. It was fine,” I said.
He gave a small nod, and stood, looking at the floor for a moment. “Okay. Good night,” he said, and his voice seemed funny. Tight.
I didn’t care enough to wonder at it. I turned toward my room and fell into bed, still wearing my mask, my uniform pulled down to my stomach.
Nothing mattered right now. Everything was fine.
I heard the door click as Lorne walked out, and then I dropped into blissful, dreamless, feelingless sleep.
Chapter Nine
Ryan
I watched the video for the fourth time. It didn’t get any easier. I was well aware of everyone in the room watching me while trying to act like they weren’t. I could hear Jenson’s heart beating rapidly, the only expression she gave of her horror. Christ, I could smell the adrenaline in the room. And it was all thanks to the videos I was staring at.
Even the first grainy videos from the large private bank in Finland had been good enough for me to know what I was looking at.
The good news was, the woman I love more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life was alive. She was there, in the flesh, and her body was whole and she was moving. She was alive.
But now we knew why she was alive. At least, I hoped I wasn’t the only one who knew what I was looking at here.
The video from the fourth bank, the clearest of all of them, the one with a crystal clear color feed, came on, and I leaned forward.
I’d know those hazel eyes anywhere. It was almost like the fucker had dressed her like that to torture me. I could have handled anything else without feeling like I was losing my mind. I could have seen her mouth, her hands, her neck. I still would have known it was her. But to have to look at her eyes, at eyes that I’d met every chance I could get when she was nearby, as if the answer to every mystery in my world could be found there… . To have to look at her eyes and not see a single sign of her there, it felt like my heart had been ripped out and fucking fed to me, still beating.
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